About the Town Ch. 1

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Samantha is set up for extraodinary experiences.
3.6k words
4.26
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 10/20/2022
Created 05/04/2001
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My name is Samantha T. My husband wanted me to write down what happened. We think that if I tell how it happened to me, other women might see how thrilling a full sex life can be and it will save them from years of boredom and frustration.

I'll admit my experience is "out of the box", so to speak. It isn't your "normal" pattern of getting married, having sex with the same person for years, then devolving into a monotonous pattern which eventually causes a loss of interest in sex over the years. We took some risks in order to keep our lives full and exciting. I'm glad we did.

The event I'm going to relate happened in a moderately sized city in the Midwest. Larry and I had been on the road for most of the day. We were traveling for the sake of getting away from our parochial small-town atmosphere and enjoying some time together while we explored new territory.

My most vivid memory of that weekend is this:

When I look to my right my vision is full of a thigh. It's a nice looking thigh, young, strong, smooth. There a tiny golden hairs accented by the lightly tanned skin beneath them. The thigh pulses as the muscles flex and release.

My head is swimming, slightly. I feel the probing, pumping inside me, the nerve endings within me tingle with electricity. I am kneeling on a bed, the sheets white beneath my arms. As the sensations beneath me crescendo sounds burst inadvertently from within me.

"Ah, god!" I blurt out, the convulsions of my orgasm overcoming my self-control. I cannot stop the sounds. "Ohhhh! Oh, god! Oh, yes!"

Someone told me the strongest sexual organ in the body is the mind. As I kneel here, a hard, thick cock pounding away inside me, my mind tells me that what is happening is thoroughly sensual, magnificently arousing, and completely delightful. I revel in the thrill of forbidden sex performed with complete abandon and without a hint of guilt.

The man pumping his meat to me is not my husband of twelve years. The father of our children is underneath that thigh which is so close to me. What I know is that he is watching this strange cock repeatedly slam into me. His own member, I know, is buried in the warm, dark recesses of the young woman who kneels astride him, her thigh filling my vision as she thrusts upon my husband's rod.

For months, my husband has been encouraging me to imagine a setting like this. He began by pointing out his idea of attractive men. It began as innocent role-playing as part of our conjugal experience.

We have always been sexually in tune with one another. Our sex lives have been active. Four and five times a week we've managed to keep the fires burning. As Rob explained it during one of our weekly dinner dates (no kids allowed!), "We both like to fuck." It's true. We enjoy our time together. I love his body, and, apparently, he loves mine. We've experimented with books, magazines, videos, toys, and a wide variety of positions. We've even done some screwing in dangerous places. Not physically dangerous, mind you. The danger is in the possibility of discovery.

We even have established what Rob calls the "first and last" tradition. Whenever we move or change jobs, we have a ceremonial joining in that place. It's probably silly, but we always celebrate these events by having one last fuck in the office or house we're leaving, and marking the new place similarly.

Our sex lives are enhanced by the fact that we really do like each other. We're not only lovers and mates, but we're actually best friends. There is nobody in the world I'd rather spend time with, just talking, than Rob. He is cute, funny, and attentive. He's incredibly affectionate. He can get me going by just a gentle rub on my shoulders. Rob is sexy, secure, and my partner in crime, so to speak. When I want to do something naughty, Rob is right there with me, as encouraging and excited as any woman could want.

"You know," Rob said to me one night, as I was riding him and reading the letters from one of our magazines, "there are lots of guys out there who would love to fuck you."

Now, we don't talk like that around the children. But, we both believe in open and honest communication when we're alone with each other. I used to be queasy about the words, but, over the course of our years together, I've become accustomed to them.

"You think so?" I said. "But, why?"

"Because, you are a beautiful, desirable woman," he said. "Really, I can tell just by the way guys look at you."

"But, I'm a married woman," I protested, settling down on his cock and squeezing it.

"That doesn't make any difference," he assured me. "Guys don't care if you're married when they look at you. They just want the chance to sink their dicks in you. Haven't you been paying attention to these letters?" he asked, waving the magazine in front of me.

"Sure I have," I told him, "but, those are all gorgeous young things. Most of them haven't even had children yet. They can't be talking about people like us!"

"They're exactly like us," Rob insisted. "Guys like me and women just like you."

Of course, I thought Rob was out of his mind. My thighs were too thick, my breasts sagged too much. I mean, I was hardly the same girl he married twelve years ago. I was convinced nobody would be sexually attracted to anybody like me. Boy, did I have it all wrong!

We quit talking at that point and I rode my lover to completion. But the topic didn't go away. The following evening Rob brought it up again.

"Here," he said, handing over one of the older issues. "Read this one," he pointed to the block of print half-way down the page.

It began, "I never thought anybody would be interested in a frumpy old housewife like me. But, when my husband started selecting clothes for me to wear on our 'dates' together I found out that I could still turn a few heads. Thanks to his help overcoming my fears, our sex lives have become exciting again, and I'm getting a variety of cock I never dreamed possible."

"Okay," I nodded after reading the first paragraph. "If you dress like a slut, people will think you're a slut. No news here."

"You don't have to dress like a slut, Sam," he said. "She doesn't say anything about dressing like a slut. She just found out she was still attractive, and dressed appropriately. Go ahead," he directed. "Read the rest of the letter."

The writer continued to describe how her husband had convinced her that in spite of her doubts, there were men, handsome men, who would find her attractive. Larry was right. The clothes he chose for her weren't especially slutty, she said, just more revealing that she would have chosen. She recounted the clothing consisted of skirts with slits to the thigh, blouses and tops that showed more cleavage than she was used to, and what she called "fuck me pumps", shoes of various colors to match the multiple outfits, but all constructed with high heels and ankle straps.

"I felt very sexy just dressing in these outfits," the writer recounted. "Then my husband took me to one of those watering-holes where the lawyers and MBA's gathered after work, and I experienced the thrill of attention from several young, gorgeous attorneys. We didn't do anything exceptional that night, but when we got home, I was hotter than a firecracker, and so was my husband. We fucked and sucked and did everything imaginable all night long."

The letter told how the couple gradually went about selecting just the right guy for her to invite into their bed. She told about her first experience with her husband watching, concealed in a closet. The knowledge of him being there and watching her as she sucked off this young CPA, then seeing her spread her legs for her new lover, and urging him on to orgasm after orgasm thrilled this woman so much she thought she would pass out.

By this time, I was so wet between my legs that I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. There was no doubt that it was one hot story.

"Come on," I told Larry, handing him the magazine. "Let's go fuck."

"On one condition," he answered.

"What condition?" I said, standing up and holding out my hand to him, anxious to have him nestled in my damp hole.

"I'm going to put a blindfold on you," Larry said, "and I want you to pretend that I'm that CPA she was fucking."

That was it. I flooded right there. "Okay, yeah!" I agreed heartily. "Let's do it."

And do it we did. I about went nuts when Larry put that blindfold on me. He taunted me, saying things like "You like the taste of that strange cock, don't you?", and, "You're getting off knowing your husband is watching you suck me off, aren't you?"

I had to agree. Even though I knew it was Larry's cock and Larry's voice, my imagination allowed me to believe I was screwing a stranger. My mind was in sort of a red fog. I could actually feel my heart pounding with the excitement generated by this role-playing.

Larry was really getting into his part. As he stripped the clothes off me he kept commenting on various body parts. When he mentioned them, he would either finger or lick at them.

"What a beautiful set of tits you've got," he said. "I've been dreaming about a set of tits like this. They're incredible," my husband said, his voice strangely different. Then he locked his mouth on my nipple, licking and sucking at it. My juices were flowing freely.

"That's a fine, wet cunt you've got there, too," he remarked, his fingers snaking along the length of my sopping slit. "Bet you taste wonderful. You want me to taste you?" he asked.

"Yes!" I moaned. "Yes, please taste my pussy," I begged him.

"Then you have to ask your husband if I may," Larry said. "Ask him to let me eat your pussy."

"Please, Larry," I complied. "Can he eat my pussy, please?"

"You can't see him," Larry told me in that strange voice, "but I can. He's nodding. He wants to watch me eat you out. Is that what you want, too, Sam? Do you want him to watch me eat you?"

This was getting surreal. I knew it was Larry. But, it wasn't. Under my blindfold, my eyes fluttered. Between my legs, I was burning up with desire. I wanted to cum so badly. I wanted this stranger to eat my pussy, and I wanted Larry to watch.

"Yes, oh yes!" I cried. "I want him to watch us. I want my husband to watch while you eat me. Please! Please!" I wailed.

When his tongue hit my clitty, I exploded. My orgasm blasted over me and my head reeled. I grabbed for the bed to steady myself so I wouldn't fall off. Between my legs, the tongue of that stranger dabbled and stroked, licked and probed. I screamed my delight into the air. A huge ball of something expanded in my gut until I felt like I could stand no more. When it released it was like a long electric cable snaking out of my sopping pussy, sparking and arcing as it smoothly slithered out of me. I screamed some unintelligible words, just releasing all the pent-up energy inside me. The red fog in my head turned into a super nova blasting flash after flash of white-hot light throughout my brain.

"I'll bet you'd like me to plant my cock inside you now," the strange voice whispered. I could smell the aroma of my sex on his face as he leaned over me.

"Oh, god, yes!" I bellowed.

"Then ask your husband if I can fuck you," he ordered.

"Oh, please, god, please. Fuck me," I begged.

"Not until your husband says I can," the odd voice whispered.

"Oh, Larry, please. Please let him fuck me. I want him to fuck me, Larry," I pleaded.

"Tell him you want to feel my cock buried in you," the voice directed. "Tell him you want him to watch."

"Oh, Larry. Oh, Larry!" I moaned. "Please let him fuck me, Larry. I want to feel his cock inside me. Please, Larry. And I want you to watch while he fucks me. Oh, baby, I've never been this hot before. I need him to fuck me!" I screamed.

I felt the knob of his cock at my sopping entrance. I grunted and thrust toward him. I succeeded in getting only the bulge of his head inside me.

"Please," I moaned. "Please fuck me!' I thrashed about, trying to get more of him inside me. I humped my hips toward him and a tiny fraction of an inch more slid into me.

"Unnhhh!" I groaned with the effort. Now I was getting desperate and a little angry. "I'm going to fuck him, Larry. I want to fuck him. I NEED to fuck him. Say it's okay, dammit! Tell him to fuck me!"

"It's okay, it's okay," Larry's soft voice whispered in my ear. "You can fuck her if you want to. She wants you to fuck her. It's okay."

I thrust my hips upward again. This time, he met my thrust and I finally had him completely enveloped within me. I groaned with the pleasure.

"Oh, god, oh god," I whimpered. "It's so good, so good!'

I wrapped my arms around his neck and hitched my legs into his thighs. I humped upward as he began to thrust into me. This was no gentle love-making. This was pure, lustful fucking and I was consumed by it. I bellowed and screamed as the waves of pleasure washed over me. He pounded his cock into me like a locomotive and I met him thrust for thrust. My heels pumped on his ass to urge him onward. I released his neck and grabbed his hips, pulling him into me, then pushing him away, as quickly as I could.

"Larry's watching you," the voice said in my ear, a growl, really. "Larry's watching me fuck you and you fuck me back. What do you suppose he's thinking about his loving wife right now, humping away like this, begging for a stranger to fuck her? What do you think he's feeling, watching you fuck like a woman possessed?"

"He's hotter than hell," I answered. "He likes watching me fuck like this. He loves watching me come, unnnhhh, unnnnnh, unnnnhhhhh!" Little sparks fired off in my brain as the orgasm smashed into me. My cunt muscles spasmed on the thrusting cock, gripping, then releasing in the irregular pattern of the climax.

"I'm going to come deep inside you," my voice was growling. "I'm going to spill my hot seed deep, deep within you. I'm going to grab your ass and plow into you, then plant my seed in the deepest recesses of your hot, steaming cunt."

"Come inside me," I urged, redoubling the efforts of my hips to meet his increasingly powerful thrusts. "Spurt your hot cum deep inside me." I dug my heels into his thighs and bucked my hips toward him. "Fuck me deep. Fuck me deeper!" I wailed.

His body tensed up. His hands grabbed my waist and pulled me hard onto his rod. As the first hot spurt of his semen shot into me, I clenched on his rod with my cunt and willed myself into the biggest orgasm of the night.

He growled, then groaned. He pulled back, then thrust into me with all his strength. I screamed at the top of my voice my own release. "Oh god!" I wailed. "Oh, please, dear god! I'm cumming! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

It was all I could do to breathe. I gasped and panted while I pushed my sex at him as hard as I was able. I felt his cock swell and spurting deep within me. My legs had his torso in a scissors-lock, ankle crossed and squeezing him as hard as I could. The orgasm seemed to go on for minutes. Finally, as it slowly subsided, Larry removed the blindfold. I looked into his flushed face, then laid hundreds of kisses all over it. As our breathing returned to a more normal pattern, Larry rolled off me, his flaccid cock plopping out.

"So," he said, through still labored breaths, "what do you think about fucking another guy?"

"That," I replied carefully, "was incredible."

"Can you imagine what it would be like if it really was another guy?" he asked.

"Hmmm," I hummed, thoughtfully. "I don't know. I think I'd be afraid."

"Why? I'd be right there," Larry told me. "Why would you be scared?"

"I don't know," I lied. "I'd just be … I don't know. Maybe I'd hurt your feelings."

Larry didn't say anything for a while. Then he said, "You think I'd be humiliated?"

"Maybe. I guess. I don't know." I had a mixture of emotions right then that I couldn't get a hold on. I was thinking that if some guy really made me ask Larry if he could screw me, Larry would be hurt. But, it was still exciting to think about that strange cock pounding away at me.

"You did like our little play-acting event, though, didn't you?" he asked.

"Well, yeah," I answered. "Sure!"

"You didn't seem to mind asking me to get fucked then, did you?" he pressed.

"But, that was you," I argued. "I mean, I knew it was you."

"Are you really worried about how I'd feel, Sam? Or are you worried about how turned on you'd be and not give damn what I felt? Be honest."

"Oh, Larry," I said, rolling toward him and putting my arm across his chest, "I don't know, really. I mean, if I lose all my self-control, who knows what I might say or do?"

"Good, then let's talk about our feelings, Sam," Larry said decisively. "Since you seem to be having a hard time nailing yours down, let's talk about mine.

"My one regret," he began, "was that I couldn't see your eyes behind that blindfold. I don't want you blindfolded when we do this for real. I want to see the unbridled passion, the pure lust in your eyes. The reason I made you beg for it, beg to be eaten and fucked was to let you know that it was always all right with me. I want your passion, Sam, and I want to see it raw and exposed the way it was tonight. I was not humiliated. I won't be. I was more turned on than I have been in years, Sam. Hearing you beg for it made me hard as a rock."

"You really want me to do this, then?" I asked him. "You want me to fuck somebody else in front of you?" I was a little incredulous.

"You've read the letters, Sam," he answered. "It's a tremendous turn on. Why do you think they write them? I mean, doesn't it turn you on when you read them?"

"Well, yeah, it does," I told him. "But, they're just fantasies, you know what I mean?"

"What we've proved tonight, though," Larry said, "is that the concept does make you hot as a two dollar pistol. The idea turns you on. All we've got to do is take it the one additional step."

"And make it reality, huh?" I said.

"That's right."

"But, what about us?" I asked.

"Us? Us is different. We make love. This other, well, it's just fucking. When we're done, you and I are still together. Everything is still intact. You're not damaged just because you've gotten laid. Neither am I. We leave together. We stay together. The other…well, that's just entertainment."

I rolled over and put my chin on my hands where they crossed on his chest. "You really want to do this?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah," he said. "I really do. You've got no idea how turned on it makes me to think of you with a strange cock pounding into you, hearing you scream and curse as you come. Hell, just the idea of it has got me getting hard again. And, that's no small feat after the screwing we just did."

He was right. I looked down and his tool was growing again, bobbing as the blood engorged it.

"What about you?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"When do you get laid?"

"I don't know. Afterwards, I guess. We'll make love."

"What if it's a couple?"

"I guess that depends on you," he said.

"If I'm fucking him, she's going to want to fuck you. That only seems reasonable," I admitted. "Would you?"

"Would you mind?" Larry asked.

"I'll have to think about that," I said. The image of Larry pumping his cock into somebody else came into my mind. "I don't know. I'll think about it.

"In the meantime," I told him, "there's something that needs tending to." I squirmed upward, then straddled my best friend. I took hold of his hardening cock and aimed him at my dripping entrance. "Do you mind sloppy seconds?" I asked.

"Not at all," Larry said as he slid smoothly inside me.

To Be Continued...

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26thNC26thNCalmost 5 years ago
Headache

Have me a headache trying to understand.

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